There has been a lot of change in the last fifty years, and nothing highlights that more starkly than the Class of 1971 photo. There we are on the Chapel steps, forty-one men, a couple in clerical collars, Dean Sam Wylie in the middle, a few smiles, most looking very serious. When I came across it in the early 90’s I remember realizing with a start how strange this was – there were no women! I vaguely knew this was not right at the time.  It was just the way it was. What could I as one person do about this? That’s a question I keep asking myself. It has become a wake-up call question for me.

That consciousness-raising moment with the photo in the ’90s led to a series of sermons on the theme: ‘What are we not seeing now and what are we doing about it?’ The lectionary generously provided jumping off points: Jesus on the signs of the times, opening the eyes of the blind, Paul on being not conformed. If I didn’t see this then, what am I not seeing now? Fifty years after that photo, I still ask myself that question. We actually do know the answers as we look to the future. We are responsible for what we know and what we’ve learned. What clarity and courage do we need to change the things that ought to be changed? We do know that one person, one voice, one idea, one conviction, with faith and trust, can move mountains.

Looking at that photo, my memories of GTS 1968-1971 are still very alive. It was a tumultuous time: Vietnam, protests, Kent State, Nixon, HAIR on Broadway, Woodstock. There were busloads of students and faculty travelling to Washington for peace marches. There were tie-dyed T-shirts, granny glasses, headbands, and bell-bottoms.

As a low-church-somewhat-evangelical Canadian, I joined an Episcopal liturgical community in September 1968. There was a daily rhythm of meals and chapel.  Early that fall, the juniors challenged assigned chapel seating. We began to sit anywhere. The early Eucharist became optional. Leonard Raver the chapel organist introduced new music. On Sundays during my first year I toured around Connecticut, Long Island and New Jersey with Peter Rodgers (’69) leading congregations in the Rejoice Mass and Peter preaching with his guitar from the chancel steps. Phil Culbertson (’70) put together a Charlie Brown Mass. It was a time when the parish clergy were trying new things and the seminary was doing its best to adapt. I now realize that I was being grounded in centuries of vocational and theological understandings, while also living in an uncertain and changing world. The chapel was my holy place. There was mystery, community, and hope. The community changed every year, as did each of us.  I remember genuflecting on ‘hope’ – the tile ‘Spes’ at the bottom of the altar steps.

As a Canadian, I thought I understood the U.S.A. After all, I grew up in Niagara, which is close to the border, and my family holidayed for years in Wells, Maine. It took me awhile to realize that GTS served the whole Episcopal Church and there were many regional differences. For example, I was chastised for playing ‘Dixie’ on the piano (to me just a rollicking American tune) in the residence of a faculty member whose wife was from Boston.

I’ll be forever grateful for the solid academic and vocational foundation I was given while also being allowed to find myself through field education and living in New York City. Lew Towler encouraged us to find non-parish opportunities for Field Ed, so I spent three years working in broadcasting, something I’d begun in university.  I took courses at the New School for Social Research. I was part of the outreach team at St. Peter’s, Chelsea.  I played the piano regularly ($20 and a beer) at the Café London on 23rd St. and 9th Avenue. I often bought a ham and swiss cheese sandwich on rye with mayo and mustard at Mauro’s Deli on my way home because I’d missed dinner in the refectory. I used the Liquour Store at 8th and 23rd as my bank. Funnily enough, when I returned to GTS for my 25th anniversary, one old time clerk recognized me, “You’re the Canadian!” I felt home again in the neighbourhood.

 My first year I shared a room in Dodge with Geoffrey Skrinar, an artist and creative genius. He silk-screened Alleluia banners, which a group of us strung from the trees after the Easter vigil so folks awoke to colour and fun and hope on Easter Day. My final two years were in Eigenbrodt. We were served meals in the Refectory, and I came to enjoy grits and collared greens.

What more shall I say? Time is too short for me to tell the stories of the teachers and staff for that is the true story of GTS. They are still alive in my mind: Dean Sam Wylie, Powell Mills Dawley, Robert Claude Dentan, Pierson Parker, Robert Semple Bosher, Orlando Sidney Barr, Boyce Bennett, James Anderson Carpenter, Dora Phyllis Chaplin, Wood Bowyer Carper, Thomas Bigham, Dick Norris, Robert Seaver, Robert Wright, Lew Towler, Rowland Cox, Herb Thomas, Isabel in the Dean’s office, Dick Corney, Bill Weinhauer, Robert Terwilliger, Paul Clayton, Stephen Bayne, and my fellow seminarians. Those whom I have forgotten to thou O Lord remember.

It was a very important time I realize now. A lot happened. I remember the restless longing and anger that propelled so many to protest and challenge. Looking back, I wish I knew what I know now and try to live: inclusion, equality, and justice. 

I look back with gratitude for the dedication of the teachers and what I learned from the people I went to school with. We know so much more about how ordained women have enriched our lives and our churches and God’s call. By their fruits you will know them. Much has changed. Much abides. Thanks be to God for the saints at General and those three very special years.